


"To Prove Their Mettle"

by farad



Series: The Phoenix Series [2]
Category: The Magnificent Seven (TV)
Genre: 3K Round-up Challenge, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-09
Updated: 2016-06-09
Packaged: 2018-07-14 01:26:44
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,516
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7146521
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/farad/pseuds/farad
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Story Two, apparently, in a new series, "The Phoenix Saga"; set after "Sins of the Past", a discussion of - well, many things, starting with the look Josiah gives Chris as he hands Chris Vin's gun. </p>
<p>For the Daybook Prompt from Jojo, "Josiah, OW, wear my heart upon my sleeve (Othello)"; I couldn't find a Shakespeare quote that really worked for the title, though.</p>
            </blockquote>





	"To Prove Their Mettle"

**Author's Note:**

> Unbeta-ed, though I have re-read several times; sorry for mistakes. 
> 
> The very last part refers to the trick Inez used to get hired by Ezra. If you don't recall that scene - well, she earned the payment for the man's drink!

“ _You_ _who live your lives in cities or among peaceful ways cannot always tell whether your friends are the kind who would go through fire for you. But on the Plains one's friends have an opportunity to prove their mettle.” -_ _Buffalo Bill_  


 

Chris wasn't really surprised to find Josiah sitting at a back table in the saloon, a bottle in front of him that was half empty. Well, that wasn't quite true; he was surprised that the bottle was still half full. This late in the evening, and after the events of the past two days, he'd expected the bottle to be almost empty.

 

Of course, it could be his second bottle, and that thought gave Chris pause. As he was standing just inside the doors of the saloon and the place was still pretty busy for this time of night, it didn't take long for him to be in someone's way.

 

“You coming or going?” a gruff voice said behind him, and he took a breath and stepped forward, into the saloon. He made his way to the bar, managing to find a place just at the corner where he could get the barkeep's attention – Inez, if he recalled correctly.

 

She nodded in his general direction, an acknowledgment that she had seen him, but she was in the process of pouring a drink for another man. She was pretty, he had to give her that, but she was working for Maude now, and – well, Chris had just left Ezra in the hotel where he was taking great pleasure in playing poker with the 'traitorous locals who succumbed to my mother's wiles.' JD and Buck had been there too, JD playing roulette while Buck stood nearby and told him all the ways he was doing it wrong.

 

“Senor Larabee, I believe?” the woman asked as she made her way to him.

 

“Reckon you should call me Chris,” he said. “Figure we'll be seeing enough of each other as this is one of the only saloons in town.”

 

She smiled at him, a pretty smile, then asked, “Whiskey? Or something else?”

 

“Whiskey,” he answered, putting some coins on the bar.

 

As she poured, he asked as quietly as he could – which wasn't very quiet as the mechanical piano was banging away and most people were talking loud to be heard over it, “He been here long?”

 

She looked up at him then in the direction he was looking. She looked back to him as she corked the bottle and said, as softly as she could manage and still be heard, “Most of the evening, but he has only been to the bar one time. He is the town's priest?”

 

Chris grinned despite himself. “Closest thing we got.”

 

She nodded and smiled again, holding out one hand to him. “I am Inez,” she said. “I have heard many good things about you and the others who watch over this town.”

 

He nodded back, looking at her outstretched hand, then slowly taking it. “I'd be careful about listening to folk,” he said.

 

Her grip was strong but she didn't hold on long. As she drew her hand away, she said, “That is good advice, but as these words came from my new employer, I believe her. She is, after all, related to one of you.”

 

It took him a second to realize that she was talking about Maude, and by then, Inez was moving down the bar, dealing with other customers.

 

So Maude had said nice things about them. The idea of it made him want to laugh, not just because it was Maude and he didn't trust anything she said, but also because he suspected she'd be singing a different song if she knew any more about them than she did already. Certainly if she knew any more about him and Ezra.

 

And any more about – well, others among them.

 

Which brought him back the reason for his venture over here. He stepped away from the bar, getting some clear space so that he could lift his drink to his lips without getting jostled. The whiskey was warm going down, but it wasn't as good as the ones he'd had over in the hotel. Of course, he wasn't paying as much for it, either.

 

It took a good meander to get through the crowd and into the back corner where Josiah was sitting. It wasn't as loud back here, though, nor as bright. Perhaps that was why Josiah had chosen it. As he drew near, Josiah looked up at him. The older man was sitting comfortably in a chair, his legs crossed and one hand in his lap, the other on the table, wrapped around his glass. He still wore his hat though he'd taken off his coat which was draped over another chair. Though the saloon was crowded, no one had tried to take the chair – which wasn't a real surprise. Very few people bothered Josiah when he was drinking, especially when he was drinking alone. In fact, there were fewer people back here around him, which was probably why it was quieter than the rest of the saloon.

 

“Mind if I sit?” Chris asked, stopping beside the chair with the coat but not reaching for it. Best to be careful at this point, as he wasn't sure of Josiah's mood.

 

Josiah was still looking up at him, his expression unreadable. He took a sip of his drink, then as he put the glass back down, he nodded. “Toss the coat on the table – or wait a minute.” He got up, just a little unsteady on his feet, and lifted the coat, draping it over his own chair before sitting back down.

 

So he wasn't too drunk, which was a good thing.

 

Chris sat down in the chair, sipping once more on his drink. Josiah reached for the bottle and refilled his own glass but didn't say anything.

 

So it was going to be up to Chris. He had suspected as much, but he had hoped . . .

 

Best to be direct, so he asked, “Vin all right?”

 

Josiah turned and looked at him. “Would you be?” he asked.

 

Chris sighed and picked up his glass, drinking down the rest of the whiskey. As he put it back on the table, Josiah reached out and pushed the bottle toward him. “If we're going to have this talk,” he said, “best we have it on equal footing.”

 

Chris took this as a good sign, taking the bottle and refilling his glass. But as he did, he asked, “This talk? Which talk is that?”

 

Josiah snorted. “The one where we talk about you and Vin, and why it was your right to go get him, but we don't talk about me and Vin and we don't talk about you and Ezra.”

 

Chris frowned, staring in to his drink before lifting it and taking another drink – a pretty good one this time, too. That conversation.

 

Well, it was the one he expected – parts of it, anyway.

 

“Figured I was the best one to get him out,” he said. “And I made a promise to him, a long while back.”

 

“The one where you promised not to let him get hanged,” Josiah said, his hand once more around his glass.

 

“That one,” Chris agreed, not really surprised that Josiah knew, but still – a little surprised. Vin had told Josiah more than he'd expected.

 

Vin had told Josiah more than Chris himself had shared with – well, anyone. He wondered what that said about their relative commitments.

 

But that wasn't really what this was about, and he knew that as well as Josiah did. So best to take the bull by the horns, so to speak. “Vin's one of the best men I've ever met,” he said. “I'm proud to call him my friend – one of the best I've ever had. But that's as far as things go with us.”

 

Josiah stared at Chris, his face still without expression, though his lips seemed tighter and the lines at the corners of his eyes seemed deeper. He took a sip of his whiskey, still staring at Chris, and after he swallowed, he said, “You think he feels the same way?”

 

Chris blinked, looking at Josiah and letting the question, the idea of it, roll through his head. Eventually, when he understood what was behind it, he said, “Reckon you know that better than I do. And if you don't, then he's the one you should be asking, not me.” He lifted the glass again, more to give himself a chance to think. After he swallowed, he said, “I went after him because I figured I had the best chance to rescue him, and because I felt – and he did, too, that he didn't want anyone else putting their life – or their freedom – on the line for him. You know that, Josiah, you know that as well as I do. Hell, Vin wasn't overmuch happy that I did it. He was afraid I'd get strung up there beside him.”

 

Josiah looked away, out in the crowded saloon itself. After a time, he said, “I saw him in the jail that night,” he said softly. “He'd been on his way to see me when that bastard Yates and his men took him – but you were there for that part, weren't you.”

 

There was a tone in his voice that made Chris defensive, and he answered before he thought about it. “I was passing by, on my way to the saloon – hell, it was just chance I was there, Josiah.”

 

Josiah held up a hand, the one not clutching the glass. “No need to explain. I was just saying that I talked to him that night, in the jail. And made a promise that night, too, Chris, that I wouldn't let anything happen to him.”

 

Chris opened his mouth to reply, then stopped, letting the words run through his mind again. When he answered, he said, “He wouldn't let you promise him, would he.”

 

Josiah blew out a breath and he looked down. “He's a damned idiot,” he muttered, just loud enough for Chris to hear him.

 

Chris smiled. “He don't want anyone else to get hurt or in trouble because of him. Even if they want to.”

 

Josiah looked up and back at Chris. “So what gave you the right to decide that you were going to, all on your own?”

 

Chris met his gaze and said, “You could have come along. You could have done it instead. Why didn't you?”

 

Josiah's gaze hardened, and for a few seconds, Chris worried that it was going to get bad. But then Josiah looked away, jerking his glass to his lips and drinking down what was in it. As he set the glass back on the table, he reached for the bottle and said, “What do you think I've been doing here all night, Chris? Asking myself that same damned question. Why didn't I? What didn't I do it myself or at least go along with you? Hell, if I'd been there . . .”

 

Chris saw it then – or at least some of it. The bigger picture fell a little more clearly into place. “I don't know that another person being there would have made a difference in getting Eli Joe. The only thing that could be done was to get Vin away from him before they hung him and that was a near -”

 

“Before they what?” Josiah said, cutting him off. His eyes were wide, scared, and Chris took a breath, understanding that Vin hadn't shared some things.

 

Chris took another drink, finishing off what was his glass. As he put it back down, Josiah motioned to the bottle, but Chris shook his head. The worry on Josiah's face lessened, replaced with some annoyance. He picked up the bottle and poured into Chris' glass as he said, his tone sharp, “Eli Joe was going to hang him?”

 

Chris shook his head, as much at the liquor in his glass as at the question. “I reckon you need to talk to Vin about all this -”

 

“I'm talking to you,” Josiah cut him off. “And as I recall, you were the one who came here to do it.”

 

Chris sighed, sitting back in his chair. Without thinking, he picked up the glass and drank, looking out into the saloon as he did. It wasn't as crowded now, getting late, and he thought he saw through the haze of smoke and moving people and lamp light, a familiar purple jacket. He was pretty sure he heard Buck's loud laugh and JD's voice, a little shrill in argument.

 

The thought that they were here, that Ezra had surely seen him, but that they were not back here interrupting the conversation – well, it was a sign. He wasn't sure yet what it meant, but he thought it was a good thing.

 

So he turned and looked at Josiah, trying to be as clear as he could. “I already told you that I promised Vin. He's my friend – one I care about. I promised him that I would not let anything happen to him – sure as hell not a hanging – and I set out to make sure that was what happened. Had you been there, it would not have changed what happened. We would not have caught Eli Joe then – he had about 10 men, too many for the three of us to have rounded up. What happened next would have happened no matter what. Eli Joe – well, he knew Vin. I don't see how you can say otherwise. He knew Vin would come back for him, so he left Yates to run us around – which Yates and his men did. Then he came back here, knowing Vin would come back here, too. And he waited.”

 

Josiah nodded. “I was here for all of that.”

 

“You were,” Chris said, jumping in, anticipating what was coming and heading it off. “You were leading the horses – Vin's too – when we were going to meet him at the wagon. I didn't have my horse, JD did, which was why I was able to hear the sound of the rifle – hell, Josiah, it was damned lucky, damned circumstance that I heard it! It wasn't a plan from God or anyone else – just dumb luck. But I did, and - well, you know what happened from there. I was close enough to be with Vin when he went charging up the stairs. And – well, hell, I was there to make the bad decision to shoot Eli Joe when he pulled that knife. Reckon that was one of the worst decisions I ever made, but I swear to you, I don't think I'd have done anything different.”

 

Josiah straightened in his chair, his shoulders pulling back. He released the glass he was holding and flexed his fingers, opening and closing them, pulling them tight into fists.

 

Chris found his hands on his guns, thinking about how he was going to draw them in here – thinking about whether he should draw them in here, or just let Josiah have a few punches and hope that Ezra and Buck could get here before it got too serious.

 

But Josiah didn't rise from his chair. Instead, he reached out one hand across the table, not in fist, but extended, as if to shake. The same way Inez had earlier.

 

“You're a better man than I,” Josiah said quietly. “I'd have killed that son of a bitch the first minute I had the chance. And truth be told, it was hard for me not to do so when we were firing into that room, after he took that shot at Vin. I'd have ripped that son of a bitch apart with my bare hands – and I could have done it.”

 

Yes, Chris thought, Josiah could have. But here his hand was, extended over the table. There wasn't much doubt but that Josiah was angry, but it seemed that it was contained.

 

“Maybe that's why I didn't go myself – because I was afraid I'd do more harm than good.” Josiah shook his head, as if trying to clear it, and the extended hand fell to the table. “Or maybe I didn't go instead of you because I knew I wouldn't be as able as you.” He shook his head again, blowing out a deep breath. “I was afraid I'd fail him.”

 

Chris knew that was the truth, and he knew that it was a truth that wasn't just applied to the situation at hand.

 

“Reckon we all worry on that, failing someone we care about. I've done it, and I can tell you, it ain't something you get over easy. In this case, though, maybe you did the right thing. Hell, you got his gun back. That was no small thing.”

 

Josiah shrugged. “I almost didn't give it to you.”

 

“I know.” And he did. He had seen it in Josiah's eyes, seen the way that Josiah had looked at him, the thoughts running through his mind as he debated whether he was going with Chris or letting him go alone.

 

Those few seconds were why Chris was here, why they were having this conversation.

 

“You did the right thing, Josiah. Vin would never have forgiven either of us if things had gone wrong.”

 

“Not sure what I'll do next time,” Josiah said softly. “Don't like the way I'm feeling now about it all.”

 

Chris nodded, understanding. “Guess we'll cross that bridge if we come to it.” Though he knew they would, just as Josiah did. “For now, reckon we got to work on finding a way to help Vin.”

 

Josiah nodded and sat back a little, some of his strain easing. “We can do that.” He lifted his hand again in offering.

 

They had come to an understanding, so Chris reached out slowly to take Josiah's hand. They shook, Josiah's grip strong, so strong that Chris felt the crunch of his finger bones for a few seconds before Josiah let go.

 

“Vin's a forgiving sort,” Josiah went on, picking up his glass again. “He knows you did what you thought you had to. He's upset – hell, Eli Joe was the only man who could have cleared him. But between you and me, I don't see that Eli Joe would have opened up all that much to the law. I'm not sure how Vin thought he could get testimony from the man.”

 

_'I lived with Kiowas and Comanches. I know a thing or two about getting the truth out of people.'_

 

Chris smiled, remembering Vin's words – knowing that, like himself, there was a darkness in Vin that appreciated the hard realities of life. 

 

But it was not a part of Vin that Vin would ever show to Josiah,  not if he could avoid it. 

 

Just as it was not a part of Chris that he ever wanted to show to Ezra.

 

And that was where the difference was. Chris knew that Ezra – of all people – understood the hard realities of life. He also knew that Josiah did as well – the man had a so much darkness of his own. 

 

But like Ezra, Josiah had an idealized view as well, and given his choice, he would always try to create that world,  that better world, for the people he cared about. He would always try to see that world, not the darker side of things. 

 

Which was why this darkness that Vin and Chris shared was one that they wouldn't speak of with Josiah and Ezra. Not often, anyway, and never in the light of day. It was why he could not violate the trust Vin had in him. Nor why Vin would ever share things with Ezra about Chris. 

 

So he said, simply, “Eli Joe is dead, but we still have Yates. I 've wired the Judge, and Mary and I both think that Yates will try to save his own ass by telling the Judge what Eli Joe told him,  if he's offered a deal .” 

 

Josiah sat for a time, and then he smiled. It wasn't a happy smile, but it was one that showed teeth. Like a wolf. 

 

“Reckon we can make sure of that?” he asked, but the tone of his voice let Chris know it wasn't really a question. 

 

It also let him know that he had an ally if he needed one in the quest to clear Vin's name. Not that he had doubted that.

 

He lifted his glass, holding it out toward Josiah. “Damn sure we can,” he said quietly. “To clearing Vin's name.” 

 

Josiah touched his glass to Chris', and they drank, finishing off what they each had in their glasses. 

 

As Josiah put his glass back on the table, he reached for the bottle, but this time, he fished the cork out of a shirt pocket. “One for the road,” he said, offering the bottle to Chris. “I think it's time for me to get some sleep.” 

 

Chris shook his head, pushing back his chair. 

 

“Vin's out wandering, said he needed to clear his head,” Josiah said. “But I figure he'll be back in a while if he's not already. You might find him in the wagon, or in the boarding house.” 

 

“You going looking for him?” Chris asked. 

 

Josiah had corked the bottle and was getting to his feet. “He'll find me when he's ready,” he answered. 

 

And that, Chris thought as he watched Josiah slide on his big coat, was the other thing that Josiah and Ezra had in common; they had their habits and their own places, and they were content to wait for people to come to them.

 

And he and Vin were like moths to their flames. It was an idea that made him smile, and he was still smiling as he made his way through the thinning crowd to the table where Buck, Ezra, and JD were playing cards. Nathan had stopped in also, though he wasn't playing cards.

 

“You and Josiah figure it out?” JD asked as Chris drew close.

 

Before Chris could respond, Ezra explained, “We assumed your _tete-a-tete_ with Mr. Sanchez was a strategy discussion on how to clear Vin's name, and that it was best if the two of you were not interrupted.” He grinned up at Chris, arching one of his fine eyebrows in a private message of its own.

 

“Maybe,” Chris shrugged, sitting down in a chair between Ezra and Nathan. “We'll talk to Vin in the morning – or whenever he gets back.”

 

“Good that you and Josiah came to a meeting of the minds,” Buck said. “Wouldn't want to be on his bad side.”

 

JD frowned, looking from Chris to Buck and back, but before he could get the question out of his mouth, Ezra said, “That would be almost as bad as being on the wrong side of a shotgun in a shotgun wedding. Speaking of which -”

 

“We ain't speaking of which,” Buck cut in, and Chris recalled the story Ezra had told him about the young lady – Lucy? - who claimed Buck was the father of her child.

 

Picking up on the topic – and hoping to keep JD's mind off the last conversation – Chris said, “I forgot to ask Josiah if he was officiating at the wedding. You bought your new suit yet?”

 

Buck glared at Chris, but it was glare he was used to. “Ain't gonna be no wedding – at least, not with me in it. Seems she was just playing me to get the real father to step up.”

 

“Well, that must be quite the relief!” Ezra said, dealing out a new hand and putting both Nathan and Chris in it.

 

“For Lucy, too, I suspect,” Nathan added. “Can you imagine being married to Buck?”

 

“Hey now!” Buck said, turning his glare on Nathan. “I'll have you know -”

 

“You'd have to invest in blinders,” Ezra said, cutting Buck off. “To keep his eyes from wandering.”

 

“It ain't his eyes that are the problem,” JD said, grinning. “You'd have to invest in suspenders and belts, and - heck, I don't know what all to keep his pants on!”

 

“I can keep my pants – oh hell, Ezra, you dealing from the bottom of the deck again? This hand is worse than JD's coffee!”

 

It was a new distraction, and Chris thought for a second that it wasn't going to take. But then he saw the look that flashed between Ezra and JD, saw JD close his mouth for a second, before speaking. And he knew that what JD said wasn't what he had originally been thinking.

 

Something to file away for later, to ask Ezra about. Something he had missed somewhere along the way – but then, there was a lot of that going around right now.

 

“I'm in for a penny,” he said, fishing in his pocket for change.

 

“You ain't even looked at your cards,” Nathan protested.

 

Chris shrugged, gathering them together and shuffling them between his fingers but still not looking at them. “Figure if Buck's hand is that bad, I must have something better.”

 

“Why, I could agree with that assumption without knowing what's in your hand,” Ezra grinned, his gold tooth flashing. He met Chris' gaze, and Chris grinned back, ignoring the banter falling around them.

 

“Glad you came over,” he said, still not looking at his cards.

 

Ezra shrugged. “As this establishment still carries such a prestigious name, I thought it prudent to support it.”

 

“Whiskey ain't as good,” Buck said, tossing his cards on the table. “But there surely has been an improvement in the help.” He grinned at Ezra. “Think I'll go introduce myself.”

 

“I'd warn you to be careful,” Ezra said, “but I'd be wasting my time.”

 

Buck was already up and walking away, waving a hand to them.

 

“She a handful?” Nathan asked, tossing in a penny to the pool on the table.

 

“My mother likes her,” Ezra said. “I think that should be all you need to know. JD, are you in?”

 

JD looked at his cards, frowned, then pushed them together and dropped them on the table. “I lost too much at that damned roulette wheel to take any chances. You know, Ezra, you really should talk to your mother about her system. It doesn't work like she thinks it does. She must lose a lot of money with it?”

 

Chris and Nathan looked at each other, then at Ezra, who was holding up one hand. “I have tried to explain it,” he said to them both. “But there's only so much I can do. She is, after all, my mother.”

 

Chris grinned and finally looked at his cards.

 

“Reckon you come by it honestly,” Nathan sighed as JD looked at each of them in turn, growing annoyed.

 

Across the way, they heard a loud thunk, then Buck say, “Well, now, I guess you didn't need my help, did you. I think I'll just take my beer and go back to my friends . . . Let us know if you want us to carry him off to the jail . . .”

 


End file.
